


Lascivious

by suaveassassin



Category: Interview With the Vampire (1994), Vampire Chronicles - All Media Types, Vampire Chronicles - Anne Rice
Genre: Alternate Universe - Human, Alternate Universe - Modern Setting, M/M, Rockstar AU, nothing actually explicit tho, some horny boys
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-09-14
Updated: 2018-09-14
Packaged: 2019-07-12 08:08:44
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,188
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/15991148
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/suaveassassin/pseuds/suaveassassin
Summary: Louis and Lestat are celebrating the completion of their first album. Things get a little frisky.





	Lascivious

**Author's Note:**

> i commissioned palladionaigis for a fic in this AU setting the other day and it was Very Good and Wonderful and inspired me to write some of my own! this one takes place a few years earlier than theirs, when Lestat/Louis’ relationship was still all sunshine and roses
> 
> also it’s a lil inspired by ghost’s jigolo har megiddo so. Hornt

In a great toss of his head the sting of the bourbon hits his tongue and cascades down his throat and Lestat is ecstatic.    
  
Maybe it’s the liquor; the young man doesn’t consider himself a lightweight, but he’s not used to the harder stuff - that was Louis’ territory. Maybe it’s the circumstances; he’s celebrating the wrap of a new album, done in only four months and perhaps one of his best.   
  
Most likely, it’s the company. Louis de Pointe du Lac sits across from him on the leather L-shaped couch, refilling his glass and grinning boyishly. He’s backlit by the bright nighttime lights of San Francisco spilling through the wall-length windows, the warm glow catching his jawline and falling soft on his black hair, tied back neatly from his face in a loose ponytail. Even in the low light, Lestat can see how the whiskey is bringing the warmth to his cheeks.  _ God, I love him _ , Lestat muses dreamily, drinking in every detail of the man adjacent him. Louis catches his eyes as he sets the bottle back down on the coffee table and smiles wider.   
  
The two of them are still dressed for business, though as the alcohol is passed back and forth they become more disheveled, Louis’ dress shirt rolled at the elbows and coming untucked, Lestat progressively unbuttoning his. It couldn’t have been more than two hours ago that the two of them had signed over to a new record label and had The Vampire Lestat’s new album greenlit, and they’d been so childishly excited and full of adrenaline that they hadn’t bothered to change before celebrating.   
  
The album’s production had been a whirlwind. Louis had a way with words that Lestat could never have dreamt of possessing himself, and his lyrical prowess blended with the rockstar’s virtuoso talents had created the perfect storm of a record. It was as much his partner’s accomplishment as his own, and though Lestat loved the spotlight more than most he couldn’t and wouldn’t deny the part Louis played. It was  _ their _ success, and he was determined to give it the recognition it deserved.   
  
Lestat downs another shot and crosses his legs, his arms draped over the back of the couch and his head turned towards the ceiling.   
  
“I still can’t believe it! It feels surreal, doesn’t it?” He tips his head back down and fixes Louis with his awe-struck gaze. His partner shakes his head in disbelief.   
  
“That it does. I can’t even believe it came from us. Well, me. I know  _ you _ had it in you.”   
“Oh, don’t discredit yourself, Louis! Your writing is amazing, beyond any lyrics I could churn out.” He gives Louis’ shoulder a playful shake and the other man laughs, conceding with a smile.   
  
“We make a good team, huh?”   
“I’d sure as hell say so. The label loved it. You realize it’s better than anything I’ve done so far? Sure, plenty of people have eaten up my solo work, but this - this is beyond all that. This is something meaningful, something visceral and-and intense, and...”   
Lestat trails off, losing his train of thought to the alcohol. Even stone-cold sober the rockstar wasn’t the best at connecting his brain and his mouth.   
“I know what you mean,” Louis assured him. “It’s a piece of our souls, this album. I can’t believe this is real.”   
  
By “this” Lestat got the feeling his boyfriend meant everything around him - their penthouse suite, their relationship, their success. They were rockstars in the most literal sense of the word. Louis breathed words and meaning into the music in Lestat’s soul, and the union of their creativity had made something wholly beautiful.   
  
They drink more, finishing off the first bottle and breaking out a second. Lestat feels the tell-tale fuzziness as the liquor settles in his system, his neck starting to loll as all his muscles relax. Though his thoughts become jumbled he can’t help but feel overwhelmed with love for the man by his side. They chatter more, laugh and reminisce, thinking back on how far they’d come since they met, and through it all Lestat can’t stop himself from drunkenly staring at Louis, etching every line and feature into his mind: his soft, youthful face, his piercing green eyes, his softly rounded brows and perfect lips. He was head-over-heels in love.   
  
The night stretches on and when it’s past one in the morning Louis stands with considerable difficulty from the couch and begins to gather up the bottles and glasses.   
  
“We should call it for the night,” he says slowly, pronouncing every word carefully. Lestat suddenly leans forward and grasps Louis’ wrist.   
  
“I don’t want to, not yet.”   
  
Before Louis can protest Lestat tugs him back down to the couch and flips over him so that his arms are draped over his shoulders loosely, legs straddling his dark-haired partner’s lap, as if fearful he’d try to escape him again. Louis is stunned for a moment, lips parted slightly and hair tousled, but he relaxes into it after a beat and grins, bringing his arms around Lestat’s waist.   
  
“Handsome devil.”   
“Two things I do best.”   
  
Lestat closes whatever small distance still remains between them with a series of kisses, each deeper than the last. He finishes the barrage off with a soft bite to Louis’ lower lip, moving down to kiss his jaw, the crook of his neck. Louis slides his hands up from the blond’s waist to his chest, letting his fingers slip inside the already-unbuttoned fabric and press into warm flesh. Lestat continues to pepper his lover’s neck with kisses and ends it with a nip, eliciting a soft gasp from the other man. In a show of dominance Lestat hadn’t been sure he’d had in him, Louis grasps his shoulders and shoves him down on the couch, climbing over him. The black-haired man leads the game now, and giddy with love and liquor Lestat is all too willing to oblige.   
  
The two become tangled on the leather sofa, laughter interjected between kisses and sighs, faces warm with bourbon and sweat. Lestat’s shirt falls off his shoulders as he works at Louis’ buttons with limited dexterity, eventually abandoning the effort to put his hands to better uses. Hands explore as tongues do and Lestat’s every synapse is firing with pleasure. His fingers wander towards the clasp of Louis’s pants but his boyfriend stops him gently.   
  
“Not on the couch, please,” he jokes, his voice low and breathless. Lestat withdraws his hand and props himself up on one elbow, the other arm locked around Louis’ back.   
  
“The bedroom, then?” he offers, lips curled in a grin that his partner mirrors.   
  
“You’re drunk.”   
“So are you.”   
“Point taken.”   
  
The rest of the night is a tornado of dizzy energy and passion. Lestat’s never felt so alive, so fulfilled and blissful and in  _ love _ . He never, never wants this to end. He would go mad without it. The sudden thought leaves a knot in his stomach. As well as he can, he’ll make sure this moment lasts forever. 

After all, what would the rockstar be without his dark angel?


End file.
